


The Sorcerer's Apprentice

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [42]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow finds a difference resource for her difficulties with magic</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sorcerer's Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the episode Wrecked.
> 
> Written by Sadbhyl, beta'd by Mydeira

Ethan opened his door to find Willow Rosenberg standing there.

The child had a brave face on, but he could feel the fear coming off her in waves, a tangled mess of anxiety, panic and real horror. She was bearding the lion in its den, and she knew it.

She had good reason to be scared of him.

“I need your help,” she said tremulously.

“Oh yes, because that worked out so well for me before.” He turned his back on her, but didn’t close the door.

She followed him in. “I think . . . I think I may be in real trouble.”

He didn’t try to control the anger welling up in him. “Isn’t that what you have your little circle of friends for? I hardly see why you need my help.”

“They won’t talk to me.” Her tone was petulant.

“That happens when you work your will without regard for others.”

“I didn’t know where she was . . .”

“And that was the problem, wasn’t it?” He turned on her. “That should have been the first thing you did. Stupid, amateur mistake. I should have thought to check it myself.”

Willow sank down on the couch across from him, her hands pinched between her knees. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because it never occurred to me that you hadn’t. Even the simplest divination would have told you to leave well enough alone.” He poured a splash of scotch in the bottom of a tumbler, swallowing it quickly. “You were so certain, I presumed you had.”

“I _was_ certain.”

“Well, you were wrong.”

They were quiet for a long time. She sat with her head down, her body folded in on itself. As he watched her, waiting for her to crack, he began to realize that he wasn’t the only thing she was afraid of.

“I think it’s trying to take me,” she said finally.

“What is?”

“The magics. I can feel them. Inside me. Every time I do something, it gets a little stronger, a little darker.”

“So stop using it.”

She glared at him. “Could you?”

He didn’t answer her, returning her stare unblinkingly.

She dropped her eyes first. “Then, tonight, a friend of mine, not one of my Scooby friends, took me to this place. And there was this guy. Rack.”

“I know him.” She looked surprised. “We’ve had dealings in a couple of projects.”

“He wanted . . .” She looked away again, shame and fear making her skin flush. “I don’t know what he wanted. But something inside me wanted it. Wanted it so badly I could feel it screaming. It was dark, and it was violent, and it scared me.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, holding them there tightly. “So I ran.”

Ethan knew what she was describing. He’d seen Rack feed off people before. Had done it himself. It was the same thing he had tried to do to Joyce almost two years ago. He took down a second glass, spilled some of the scotch in it and brought it to her.

She stared at it dumbly. “I’m not legal.”

“When did you start worrying about rules?” He was hard pressed not to laugh at her. “Drink up. It will settle your nerves.”

She did, coughing as she swallowed the fiery liquid down, and then handed him back the glass.

He sat in the armchair next to the sofa, setting his own glass on the broad wooden arm. “Why come to me?”

“This felt . . . chaosy. Wild. I thought you might understand.”

“And do what?”

She didn’t answer.

He leaned forward. “Thought I’d make the big bad man go away for you? You forget, sweet, he and I are on the same side.”

“Are you?”

He avoided her question. “The problem isn’t him, my dear, it’s you. You’ve been drawing on the wrong kinds of magic, and you have no control of the darkness it’s building up in you.”

“Witchcraft isn’t evil.”

“But you aren’t a witch.”

She rose to her feet. “I am so! I’m a very powerful . . .”

“Sit. Down.” He said forcefully.

With a soft squeak she dropped back into her seat.

“What phase is the moon tonight?”

She looked toward the window uncertainly.

“Oh, come now, any true witch could at least tell me whether it was waxing or waning.”

“I . . . I’m not sure.”

“What was the last holiday you celebrated?”

“Halloween.”

“And you spent it how?”

“Looking for Dawn, I guess.”

“And before that?”

“Um . . . Fourth of July?”

“So, you ignored two major holidays and then disregarded the most sacred night in the Wiccan calendar?”

“I was busy!”

“You were busy because these things aren’t important to you. You’ve taken the shallow trappings of witchcraft to give yourself some power and disregarded all the parts that make it a religion. For that’s what witchcraft is, a religion. But you don’t care about religion, do you? All you’re interested in is power.”

“No! I . . .”

“I felt it when I pulled the energy from you in the spring,” he spoke over her. “Your lady’s energy is smooth, grounded, but yours crackled with the need to act. You are no witch, girl. You’re a sorceress. And a fairly inept one at that.”

“Hey!”

“That’s what makes you an easy target for a hustler like Rack. A great deal of power and no control.”

“I’ve got great control.”

Ethan reached out with his aura and shoved her.

She fell off the couch.

He shook his head in disdain as she stared up at him in shock from the floor. “Can’t even ground properly. Rupert should be ashamed.”

She pulled herself up off the floor. “What does he have to do with it?”

“He’s the one responsible for your training.”

“No one’s responsible for me but me.”

“If that’s true, then it’s amazing you weren’t made a snack long before now. I told Rupert to take you in hand. Are you telling me he didn’t?”

“All I’ve ever gotten from Giles were lectures on how dangerous magic is and how I shouldn’t mess with things I don’t understand.”

“He’s certainly right about that. But it’s too late for you, isn’t it? You’ve touched it now, there’s no turning back.”

“What can I do?”

“Find a teacher,” he shrugged.

She thought a moment, then looked him in the eye. “Teach me.”

He nearly choked on his drink. “Don’t be daft!”

“Who else is going to help me? Giles has already refused, and I don’t know anyone else. Please, you have to help me.”

He rose and poured himself a much stiffer drink, avoiding looking in her hopeful, scared, still so innocent eyes. “You don’t want a depraved old man for a teacher. Surely you can find someone more appropriate.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “The only other person I knew died when I was seventeen.”

Bloody women. Bloody women and their bloody waterworks. He’d let himself get too close, gotten to know these people too well, and now . . . “Have you thought about what this might cost you?”

“I . . .” she hesitated. “I trust you. If you want . . . “

He chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, my dear, but I don’t fuck children. Too much like work. But in every other way, you would have to give yourself up to me. Do everything I ask of you without question. There will be no discussion, no explanation. I will say and you will do. It will be hard and painful and demanding, and the first time you snivel or quit, we’re finished. You have complaints, you share them with your friends, but when you come to me, you do as you’re told. Can you handle that?”

She looked at him curiously. “Is that how you learned?”

“Oh, no,” he shook his head with a grimace. “After our first encounter with Eyghon, I apprenticed myself to a right bastard. He believed in the carrot and stick method. Only the carrot wasn’t a reward.”

“What happened to him?”

“Funny you should ask. About the time my training was finished, he was calling up a demon, only his summoning circle was flawed. Go figure.”

She looked horrified.

“I’m not a nice man, my dear. It’s best you accept that up front.”

She pondered this as he worked on his drink. A thought occurred to him as he studied her. “How did you find me?”

She flushed. “Would you believe me if I said magic?”

He snorted. “Not likely. I’ve worked very hard to make certain this place is a large mystical nothing. Don’t want someone like Rupert catching me in the altogether unprepared.”

“I thought that’s what you guys did,” she blurted out. Her eyes went wild when she realized what she’d said, but he simply barked a laugh.

“Only when I am very prepared for his coming. When Ripper shows up unannounced, he’s not always looking to play.” Her mortification darkened her complexion even more. “And we will _not_ be discussing my personal life in the course of this relationship.”

“Oh, thank heaven,” she sighed, then caught herself. “I mean, yes. No. Absolutely.” And she lapsed into painful embarrassment.

Oh, this one was fun.

“So, I ask again, how _did_ you find me?”

“I snuck into Buffy’s house and looked in Mrs. Summers’ address book,” she admitted.

So much for all his protections. And for not discussing his personal life. But all he said was, “Resourceful.”

The silence returned, each of them lost in their own thoughts. He reflected on the two of them, both outcasts by their own actions. Was he really so desperate for companionship that he was willing to take on the responsibility of an apprentice?

Apparently.

She seemed to have reached the same conclusion. “All right, I’ll do it.”

He nodded his approval. “Right then. I want you to go home and spend the next two hours writing about what you want from working magic. I don’t want it type written, I don’t care about punctuation or grammar. I just want every thought you have about magic down on paper.”

“But it’s two in the morning!” she protested. “I’ve got class at nine, and it’ll take at least . . .”

“And this is your only warning. You will do as you’re told without question. If I want to know your schedule, I’ll ask you. Do you understand?”

She caught her lips between her teeth and simply nodded her head.

“Excellent. Come back tomorrow after your class and we’ll start working on your grounding technique. You’ll get mastery of that first if it kills you.”

She didn’t respond to his tease, lost in thought. “Um,” she hesitated, pausing in the doorway, “I have physics at two.”

“Oh, mustn’t miss that,” he replied deadpan.

“Okay, then. Good night.”

He closed the door behind her with a sigh.

Ripper was going to have his balls for this.


End file.
